Musings
by Trice
Summary: Seattle. Sitting on the Space Needle, a young woman decides to give up on her charges. Is she really going to do it ? Dedicated to all those wonderful authors and readers who have been losing faith in DA. COMPLETE


AN: "Hello Goodbye" airs today. I can't see it, since I reside in a God forsaken country where there is no DA. But I keep getting vibes from my favorite authors . So this piece is for you, those who have delighted us with DA fanfic, warmed our hearts and moved us to laugh or cry with Max and Logan + the rest of them. Please read this story to the end and keep the faith. If you don't like the way the show is going, please create some fic to make it better. And if this is so bad you can't read to the end, at least scroll down and read the endnotes.

Musings 

This darn thing she was doing day and night - around the clock actually, since in her line of work the position of the sun relative to the Earth didn't matter in the least bit - well, it was getting to her, especially lately. But she had been doing it for ages. Longer than people could remember.

Heaving a sigh she settled on the highest point of Seattle, looking over her charges. Here she was, exhausted, disgusted with the work she was doing. „They" were nothing but trouble and ungrateful trouble at that. She was working her butt off and „they" just stopped listening, gave up on her. Sure, it was much easier to run than to stand your ground and fight. Actually, looking down on the busy streets of Post Pulse Seattle she lovingly searched out each figure she knew so well, enveloping them in good thoughts for one last time before giving up on them herself. There was gentle Joshua, „Dog in his cocktail" and Alec the smart ass, Zack and Tinga, Brin and Jondy, Eva, Syl, Krit, the other X 5s. Then there was the Jam Pony crew, Bip-bip- Normal, Herbal , Sketchy, hearty Original Cindy, then Kendra, all their love interests, Valerie, Daphne, trustworthy Bling. She bit her lip slightly thinking of White and Renfro, Lydecker, Hannah and the other assorted bunch of people whom she loved so dearly, regardless of their faults. When she first met them she had been so glad about it, it had seemed right.. Now, however... Yes and there was, of course, tantalizing Logan Cale, mighty Eyes Only, whom she wished she'd be able to protect for eternity. And then there was she, Max Guevara, X5 452. But she wouldn't dwell on that now. Time to go. She had said her goodbyes, it was time for a new job. With a last half smile she uttered a faint „Gotta blaze" and disappeared down the heights of the Space Needle.

The long hall was terribly busy, teaming with oddly dressed people, some sad, some happy, others just as disenchanted and weary as herself. She slipped into the door labeled pompously „Arts" and steeled herself for the long line that she knew would await her. Greeting a familiar figure here and there, casting a cursory glance towards the lines for literature and music, she settled down, patiently waiting her turn for the „Drama" entrance. 

The white haired man at the huge desk smiled warmly seeing her come in.

„There you are" he greeted. „I was expecting you earlier".

The beautiful features of the woman softened as she sighed and crumpled into the leather chair in front of his desk.

„I tried, I really did. I loved my job and was so happy to get it. But there is no point doing it if they stop listening to me, thinking they are better off without me or my charges. It's like they've become deaf over night. I can't do it anymore. I'm sure there are other important issues in the great scheme of things that I can be assigned." 

She stopped, trying to gauge his reaction from the marble cut features. He had listened patiently, even half smiling at her, but then she had been expected. Maybe this would all be quick and painless. 

„Tell me, child, he began in a fatherly way, who has upset you so ? Was it self pitying Logan ? Or White and his goons ?" 

At her astonished look he prodded on. "Maybe it was the TOWS ? Yes, now I know, must have been stubborn Max again". He looked at her expectantly.  

She couldn't bear to let him insult those dear to her. 

"No, she exploded. It was THEM! The authors of fanfiction, the very persons I was sent out to inspire!" 

All her anger and disappointment quelled out of her. 

"I was meant to be a Muse. In ancient times that was one of the most revered things on Earth. But now the authors I was sent to inspire just give up on me. They say they want Max and Logan together again, that the virus impedes their creative activities, that they don't want Dark Angel lite anymore. As if I didn't want Max and Logan together myself, more than anything. I care for them, I feel with them. It makes me so angry to see that they give up so easily on such a wonderful pair. 

And it's not only about Max and Logan. Everybody has the right to pick and choose. After all, in this universe, it's supposed to be all good ! What about Max and Zack, or Alec for that matter. Right, just pick another show or even worse, go back to their dreary, boring little real lives and forget all about this fictional universe!" 

She had worked herself up in her anger and words were just pouring out. 

"I've tried, I really did. I told them that regardless of the decisions taken by TPTB it was them, the fanfic authors that could make a difference. TPTB  might have brought the show into existence, might own and even kill the characters permanently, but the authors are those who can make the lives of Max and Logan and Alec and Zack and Asha and Cindy and Bling and the rest worth living" The last words had almost left her breathless. She seemed to try and avoid any whiny notes but the rage had just gotten the better of her. 

"It was up to the authors to change things if they didn't like them, to cure the virus, make them live happily ever after or have them struggle to become better persons, to save the world while living their happily ever now. It's their world, their fiction, their imagination." 

She slowed down, as if realizing something. "Sure, it's easier to watch TV and nicer and so on. But the world of fiction is limitless. In it, you don't depend on TPTB, the cast, the crew, the producer or anyone else but yourself. 

It's all up to the author !"

She was almost screaming now, without even noticing it. 

"They have this incredible freedom to borrow these great characters and make the world right for once. They had me to help with their imagination and all the readers to give them the praise they needed. 

And what do they do ? They give up ! "

The last words came out incredibly soft and almost whispered. She was, indeed, sorely disappointed. Letting her vent the anger and sob the hurt off her chest, the old man gently explained:

"Muse, you know that's how it works. People get disenchanted, they lose their energy and just give up. The real world gets to them and their imagination dies off. You know, I like Max and Logan myself. You did great by them. You are a wonderful muse, you have inspired wonderful fanfiction. Your job is to inspire them, to help them evade their little daytime prison of daily chores. But they have to **want** to escape. We are very pleased with your work. As a muse you could do nothing more."

He paused looking at her as if he searched her heart, exposing all the hurt, the sadness and the love she had for her charges. Real time had no meaning here but she couldn't help herself feeling as if seconds ticked by, frozen in place by his warm stare. 

She had stopped sobbing, her mind numb, her feelings playing havoc on her heart. 

_As a muse you can do nothing more. Nothing more.. A muse._

Hoping against all hope she finally looked up to him. 

"But ?" She asked in a low voice. 

The corners of his mouth went up as he leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. 

"But there is something else you could do". His cryptic answer made her lean forward, too. "Of course, it would be dangerous." As her eyes grew wide with eagerness and she leaned forward even more, he knew he had her hooked. 

"Yes ?"

Pausing for emphasis  he finally said, as if it were nothing, just a trifle in fact: 

"We could change your designation, muse. "

For the first time in her whole existence, she stuttered: "My designation ?" 

The shock sat deep with her and he realized he needed to elaborate. "You know, inspiration doesn't always come from a muse." He paused a bit, hoping she would understand. 

"It doesn't ?" 

Groaning, he covered his face as if to chase away the wariness. What has the world come to, he sighed to himself. This new generation .... Blaming the new generation was no good. He should have paid more attention when they had been made in the first place. Maybe it was time he got down to real business again. He had retreated himself to this alternate universe for too long. Briskly, he stood up and walked to her looking deep into her eyes, straight into her heart. 

"You could become an author yourself. Your stories could inspire others, giving hope and lighting the darkness." He cocked his head a bit, as if observing her innermost feelings. "It's all a chain reaction really." 

She stood up herself, her lips quivering with the anticipation of a new task. Her voice was strong and loud and she could barely hide a grin as she answered: 

"I will." She paused, turning before going out and whispering: "Thank you."

Satisfied with himself, he looked at the now empty room slowly fading away and muttered:. 

"Work's awaiting. I'd better go down to it before Normal goes all bip- bippy on me."

*

This is KIPH with your latest news coverage:

_Several cars bumped fenders today in downtown Seattle as public attention was drawn to a young woman sitting on top of the Space Needle. Police escorted her down only to release her shortly after learning that it was just a writer seeking inspiration at the highest point of the city. May the creative force be with us all today and evermore. Peace. Out._

-------------------

N: I'm sure you realize my own muse borrowed from a lot of sources like "It's a Wonderful Life" and countless others that I can't think of now, Greek mythology to say the least. What can I say, I'm a postmodern gal.  

I don't really live for reviews. I put this up in one piece cause it's short and I don't believe in torturing people. Though reviews **are** nice. K, very nice, even the flames. What I'm more interested in is to hear that you guys can separate the TV show and the fanfiction. I.e. - before anyone cries out that they can't be separated - even if you hate DA lite, you can still think of some neat piece of fanfiction to write to make someone's day or smooth a tired reader's brow. Cause in my opinion that's what this is all about.

This was meant to cheer you folks up after "Hello- Goodbye". Hey, even if it's not working, at least I tried. Will you ?


End file.
